


The Helmed Horror

by dementorsatemysoup



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Fire, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 12:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15949691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementorsatemysoup/pseuds/dementorsatemysoup
Summary: Fjord is reminded once again of the group's mortality when he and Caleb are attacked during a random exploration of an old tower.





	The Helmed Horror

**Author's Note:**

> I've finally finished this and I am just so glad it's done.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and leave me a comment if you'd like.
> 
> Also this could be Widofjord or just good old platonic buddies fighting some Helmed Horrors together. Interpret it as you wish, I don't mind :)

The tower looks like it hasn’t been lived in in decades. The front door hangs off all but one of its hinges, creaking back and forth with the light breeze, the slowly fading sun revealing a moth eaten rug just inside the foyer. Stone is cracked in some places, more pieces littering the ground from where it weathered away, one wall partially collapsed in on itself. Several windows have been broken, old curtain flapping from inside, faded red and gold. They were probably expensive at one point, but the elements were not kind to the fabric. Whoever owned it either moved on a long time ago or died and nobody bothered to keep up with the upkeep.

Fjord wants nothing to do with the place, a nagging voice in the back of his head telling them to turn around, but Beau and Jester are already off the cart the moment Caduceus slows it down, and he, Caleb, and Nott have no choice but to follow.

“I think I’ll stay here,” Caduceus says slowly, something flickering in his eyes when he looks up at the tower. “Keep the horses company.”

“You sure?” Fjord asks and he nods. “Alright.”

They slowly approach the tower, Beau circling it twice before nodding. “Looks alright except for the broken parts.”

“We should go inside, you guys,” Jester suggests with a grin. “Explore a bit.”

“Perhaps not,” Caleb murmurs, poking at one of the fallen bits of stone with his boot. “It’s probably not very stable.”

“I think Caleb is right,” Fjord says narrowing his eyes at one of the broken windows, that nagging voice still telling him to leave this place. “It’s also creepy as fuck.”

“That’s the fun part,” Beau says with a challenging smile. “C’mon, Fjord, where’s your sense of adventure?”

He gives Beau a deadpanned look and shakes his head. “Kinda hard to have one if you’re dead.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Beau says, waving her hand dismissively, already following Jester inside. “We’ll be careful.”

Fjord sighs, sharing a look with Caleb and Nott, and he shrugs. “Wanna check out a creepy tower?”

“I can cast detect magic once we’re inside. Let you know if I sense anything.”

“I guess.”

Fjord walks towards the front door, Caleb and Nott trailing behind him as he follows Jester and Beau. His eyes adjust to the darkness inside, darkvision revealing a wrecked front room. Furniture is broken and scattered across the floor, paintings and tapestries have been torn from the walls, dust floats in the air, making Fjord’s nose itch, and a pile of rags in the corner have a couple of rat skeletons visibly poking out, one missing its head.

“Someone lived here for a bit,” Fjord says gesturing to the corpses.

“Or something,” Beau retorts, waggling her eyebrows, poking at the hilt of a decorative sword. “Weird nobody took this shit. This has gotta be worth something.”

“Just be careful.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“I hate when you do that.”

Beau grins at him, disappearing down the hall towards what he suspects is a kitchen area. Jester and Nott follow behind her, leaving Caleb and Fjord in the front room.

“Do your thing,” Fjord says gesturing to the room. “Lemme know if we need to get out of here quick.”

Caleb nods, taking a seat on the floor, and Fjord hovers over him, waiting for him to finish his ritual. He glances up, eyeing a chandelier cautiously. It’s dangling from one rusty chain, the other one hanging over Fjord’s head, and he fights the urge to nudge Caleb to the side just in case it falls.

He hears Nott shout in surprise, Jester giggling a few seconds later, and Fjord has to will his heart to slow down. For a moment there he thought something had happened, and from the way he furrows his eyebrows so did Caleb.

“Want me to go check on ‘em,” Fjord asks curiously, eyes locked on the hallway the girls had disappeared down moments before.

“I, I am sure they’re fine,” Caleb murmurs unconvincingly, slowly returning to his ritual, and Fjord reluctantly nods.

The moment he finishes his spell, Fjord watches Caleb’s eyes flash a bright orange before returning to their normal blue. He stands, turning in a slow circle, looking around the room, his eyes drifting up towards the ceiling.

“There is something upstairs,” Caleb says softly, pointing to a spot not far from the chandelier.

“Want me to get the girls?”

Caleb shakes his head, slowly walking towards the stairs. “It’s faint,” he mumbles, peering upstairs through narrowed eyes. “Might be nothing important.”

Fjord eyes Caleb skeptically. “Do you really believe that?”

“Um, no.”

“Yeah, me neither.” He lets out a soft sigh, looking nervously at the spot Caleb had indicated. “I guess we could check it out, call out if we need help.”

“Ja, ja,” Caleb responds softly, already heading up the stairs.

“Just be careful,” Fjord says and quickly follows Caleb.

It’s even dustier upstairs and this time Fjord sneezes, wiping his nose on his sleeve. There is more broken furniture littering the hall, one wall has a crack down the stone, and what looks a little like dried blood splattered across it. There are three rooms, one on either side of them and the third down the hall. To the left, the room has completely collapsed, save for one wall that has a torn tapestry flapping in the wind. To the right, the door is rotted enough that’s it’s barely holding on to the hinges, revealing the room with the weathered curtains. Neither one holds Caleb’s interest, his eyes having settled on the third room, the door intact and shut tight, the knob shaped like a crow’s head. There’s something unsettling about that door.

“That thing’s in there?” Fjord asks curiously and Caleb nods. “Alright, but, you know-”

“Be careful,” Caleb finishes for him, nodding again. “I heard you the first time.” Caleb flashes him an amused smile over his shoulder before gesturing ahead of him. “If you’d rather go first I will not complain.”

Fighting a grin, Fjord shakes his head. “Let’s go see what this fucking thing is.”

Together, they creep towards the door, Fjord absentmindedly conjuring his falchion. He grips it tightly, moving ahead of Caleb, fingers twitching as he reaches out and turns the door knob.

The door swings open, hinges squeaking, rust falling from them and sprinkling the dusty floor. Fjord peers into the room, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, and sees a set of stairs leading up to the roof with a suit of armor standing next to them.

“That’s odd,” Caleb murmurs, peering into the room over Fjord’s shoulder.

“What?”

“The aura is coming from that suit of armor,” Caleb responds and Fjord shoots him a curious look.

“Magic armor? Might come in handy.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t think any of us could wear it.” Carefully, Caleb walks into the room, Fjord trailing behind him, and studies it closely. He trails his fingers lightly down the armor’s front, tracing the crow etched into the metal. “It matches the door knob.”

“Might be the original owner’s crest.”

“Possibly.” Caleb turns away from the armor, chewing thoughtfully on his thumb nail. “I might have read something about this before, but it has been many years.”

“Might be worth showing the girls. Yasha might like that sword when we see her again.” Fjord reaches out to touch the sword but jerks his hand back when he sees the armor’s grip tighten on it.

“Uh, Caleb.”

“What?”

“That thing moved.”

“ _Was?”_  He turns to look at the armor again, eyes widening when the space where the armor’s eyes would be begins to glow a burning green. “ _Scheisse._  I know what this thing is now.”

“What...?” Fjord cuts off when the armor rears back and swings one of its arms at Caleb. He grabs Caleb’s shoulders, yanking him back, the punch swinging wildly through the air as they both fall to the ground.

Fjord jumps to his feet, swinging his sword at the armor, flinching when a shower of sparks rains down on him. The armor doesn’t seem fazed, eyes glowing an even brighter green, and it shoves Fjord to the side, stomping towards Caleb.

Caleb scrambles backwards, a flash of orange light erupting over his body as the armor swings its sword down at him, sending it back a step. It swings again, this time making contact, and Caleb cries out when the sword cuts into his shoulder.

Fjord rushes forward, swinging his sword again, pain radiating up his arm when it clangs off the armor.  Again the armor doesn’t seem affected and Fjord swears under his breath.

“The fuck is this thing,” he calls to Caleb, but he doesn’t receive an answer.

Caleb shuffles back a few more feet, face twisted in pain, blood soaking through his jacket, and sends a flash of flame at the creature. It knocks the thing back another step, scorching the front of its armor, and Fjord nods in approval. Melee attacks aren’t working, but magic seems to be doing something. Good to know.

Ignoring Fjord again, the armor takes another swing at Caleb. The sword slices through his front, ripping open his shirt, and Fjord can see Caleb’s blood shining on the armor’s sword as it pulls away for another attack. Caleb’s eyes glass over for a second, his face paling drastically, and Fjord rushes forward, throwing himself between the next strike and Caleb.

He parries the blow, sending more sparks into the air, more pain radiating down his arm from the attack. He shoves the armor back, sending a blast of Eldritch energy through it, watching as it collides with the wall with a thunderous crash.

Using that moment of distraction, he turns to Caleb and grabs his uninjured arm, hauling him to his feet.

“We gotta go,” he says, taking most of Caleb’s weight as he starts ushering him towards the stairs, skidding to a halt when a second suit of armor steps out of another room. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Fjord feels Caleb move against him, watching as he digs something out of his pocket, and a second later a burst of flames erupts between them and the second suit of armor.

“I missed,” Caleb says softly, sounding disappointed, and sags deeper into Fjord’s side.

“At least you tried.” Fjord hears clanging coming towards them and turns, sending yet another blast of energy into the original suit of armor. “What the fuck are these things?”

“Helmed Horrors,” Caleb responds, looking down at his bleeding torso. “That’s a lot of blood.”

“Yep. Just stay alive.” Fjord pivots them around, moving away from the fire, sending a second jet of Eldritch energy through the Helmed Horror when it tries to move towards them again.

It flies into the wall, deepening the crack in the stone, and Fjord heads towards the stairs leading to the roof, moving as fast as he can with Caleb’s added weight. He stops suddenly when something slams into his shoulder, sending him and Caleb to the floor.

Reaching back, Fjord yanks out a crossbow bolt, red with his blood. He throws it away, turning over onto his back, moving his head when another bolt flies at him, rolling away before the second armor can reload its crossbow.

“Fuck.” He gets up, looking around for Caleb, eyes widening when he finds him backing away from the first armor as it stalks towards him, too focused on the battle to care about a little fire damage.

Another swing nearly collides with Caleb, but he ducks out of the way, tripping over his feet and falling to the floor again. The second Helmed Horror fires another crossbow bolt at Fjord, this one bouncing off of his shield, and he sends a jet of Eldritch energy through it.

Fjord feels heat on his face and to his horror he notices the entire upstairs is on fire, the flames creeping towards them, everything and anyone fair game. He feels more heat behind him and he turns to see a bolt of fire slam into the first Helmed Horror.

“Nice one,” Fjord calls and Caleb, dazed and leaning heavily against the wall, gives him a thumb’s up. Fjord looks back at the fire and the fast approaching armor and hurries towards Caleb, sending yet another blast of Eldritch energy into the most damaged suit of armor.

“We gotta go,” he says, grabbing Caleb’s upper arm and dragging him away. The Helmed Horror that had been attacking Caleb takes a wild swipe, the tip of his sword slicing into Caleb’s forearm, and Fjord blindly casts Witch Bolt at the thing.

He hears the impact followed by a loud clang as it collaspes and he silently congratulates himself. He hurries towards the roof steps, jumping when Nott’s panicked voice suddenly fills his head.

“ _What’s going on? Where are you? Is Caleb okay. You can respond to this message.”_

 _“_ Could use some help,” Fjord grumbles more to himself than to Nott, not really sure how Message works. He hears a cry of pain, looking down to see Caleb yank a crossbow bolt out of his side. “Yep, could  _really_  use some help.”

Fjord hurries up the steps, dragging Caleb with him, the loud clanging steps of the remaining Helmed Horror chasing after them, and he bursts outside, coughing when fresh air hits his lungs.

“ _Is the tower on fire!”_ Nott’s screeching voice shrieks in his head and Fjord nearly drops Caleb, fighting the urge to clutch his skull.

“A bit.”

“Who are you talking to?” Caleb asks softly, Fjord the only reason he's still standing at this point.

“Nott’s and that fucking message spell.” He hurries across the roof, looking around for a possible way down, realizing just a few seconds too late that they’re stuck.

“Fuck.”

“This was not part of your plan, ja?”

“Not exactly.” Fjord hears the Helmed Horror clang up the steps, taking several steps back, pushing Caleb behind him. He watches as it bursts free from the doorway, its gaze settling on Fjord.

It has abandoned its crossbow, exchanging it for its companion’s great sword, and Fjord readies another bolt of energy. He lets it go, just as Nott’s voice exclaims, “ _I have an idea!”_  He watches the Eldritch energy soar off into the distance, completely missing the armor, and before he can ready another blast Caleb has moved forward a few steps, bat shit and sulfur smeared across his hands, and Fjord’s nose wrinkles at the smell.

A tiny red ball streaks through the air, hitting the armor right in the chest, exploding on impact. The blast knocks them off their feet, and Fjord winces when he hears the sickening thud of Caleb’s head hitting the stone.

He sits up quickly, expecting the Helmed Horror to look like that giant Caleb had first cast Fireball on, but instead it looks unharmed save for a scorch mark across its front.

“Fuck off,” Fjord exclaims, scrambling to his feet. He looks around, his heart sinking when he finds Caleb unconscious not far from him, and he blindly fires another Eldritch blast at the thing, the impact knocking it back a few steps.

He hauls Caleb up, dragging him across the roof, the Helmed Horror moving quickly towards him, jumping again when Nott’s voice says, “ _I have an idea, but I’m going to need you to trust me!”_

* * *

Fjord looks over his shoulder and a wave of vertigo causes him to look back at the Helmed Horror stalking towards him. He checks on Caleb, leaning heavily against his legs, blood slowly soaking into his pants and boots, and Fjord lets out a shaky breath. It’s now or never, he tells himself, peeking over his shoulder again.

“Nott, if you can hear me,” he starts, still not completely sure how message works, “I’m ready.”

He hefts Caleb up, curling his arms protectively around him, and falls backwards.

Wind rushes by him, his heart catching in his chest, his hold tightening on Caleb, and he has enough time to pray to his deity to not let them die before someone shouts and everything slows down.

They land gently on the ground a minute later, Fjord shaking so hard he nearly drops Caleb. He chances a glance up, the Helmed Horror not quite making it to the ledge yet, and quickly drags Caleb towards a clump of bushes, casting Minor Illusion to make it look like they both hit the ground.

It’s overwhelming, seeing his own dead body looking back at him, and Fjord looks away, pulling Caleb further into the bushes. He digs around in his bag, looking for a healing potion, listening carefully just in case the Helmed Horror decides to take a header off the tower’s roof in hopes of catching them, but it doesn’t come, and Fjord silently thanks whichever god is listening.

He finds the potion buried at the bottom of his bag, pulls it free, and tilts Caleb’s head back enough to pour the liquid down his throat. Some spills from his mouth, trailing down his face, but Fjord gets the majority into his body.

He watches as his wounds slowly stop bleeding, a few of the greater ones closing, and he sighs in relief. Caleb stirs against him, murmuring something in Zemnian, and Fjord’s fingers tighten around him for a second before releasing him, helping him sit up.

“Did we kill it?” Caleb slurs, glassy eyes trying to focus on Fjord’s face.

“No,” Fjord responds looking up again. “But I’m pretty sure we lost it.”

“How sure?”

Fjord shrugs, slowly getting to his feet. He cautiously looks around, expecting a door to fly open and reveal that thing, but when it doesn’t reappear he reaches down, offering Caleb a hand up, and pulls him to his feet. His legs give out, and when Fjord tries to catch him he nearly sends both of them to the ground again.

“Please don’t drop me,” Caleb says softly.

“I make no promises,” Fjord huffs.

“Where are the others?” Caleb asks, grunting in pain when Fjord tries to adjust his hold.

“Sorry. And I don’t know.” They start moving, slow and steady, Fjord occasionally looking over his shoulder. “Nott messaged me so I’m sure the girls are fine and Deuces stayed by the cart...”

“It appears we were the lucky ones,” Caleb tries to joke, wincing when he turns his head wrong.

“If that’s your idea of lucky,” Fjord retorts under his breath, quickening his pace when he hears footsteps rushing towards him, but slowing down when it turns out to be the girls.

Jester rushes forward first, resting her hand against Caleb’s cheek, and Fjord watches a familiar warm glow settle over Caleb. More of his wounds heal up and he’s able to stand a little straighter. He gives Jester a grateful smile and she pats his cheek, returning the smile, and takes a step back.

“Holy shit, you actually jumped,” Beau says with a surprised smile. “I told Nott you wouldn’t do it.”

“Jumped?”

Fjord ignores Caleb, looking down at Nott with a grateful smile. “That was some quick thinking.”

“You two were in trouble,” Nott responds with a shrug. “I did what I had to do.”

“Okay, but when you say we jumped...”

“Fjord didn’t let go of you, Caleb,” Jester says with a mischievous grin.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Fjord grumbles, heat creeping across his face, steering Caleb towards the cart.

“I’m certain I can walk on my own now,” Caleb murmurs looking up at Fjord in confusion.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure someone will catch me if I fall.”

Reluctantly, Fjord lets him go, watching as Caleb stumbles a bit before righting himself and catching up with Beau and Nott. He’s limping heavily, one arm wrapped around his torso, but he’s still upright. This doesn’t make Fjord any less worried.

“We could have lost him,” he says softly, looking over at Jester. He sees her smile fall, her teeth worrying away at her bottom lip, and he suddenly feels guilty. “I didn’t mean to insinuate...”

Jester’s smile is bright once more and she shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. Besides-” she pats her bag. “-we have diamonds now. We could have brought him back. It’s fine.”

Numbly, Fjord nods, his eyes settling on the Caleb’s back, stomach twisting when he sees the blood splattered across his coat. “Yeah, I guess we could have.”


End file.
